


Di Fraggi Pruto, or The Frog Prince

by death_frisbee



Category: The Princess and the Frog (2009)
Genre: Babby Naveen is cute, Egregious amounts of Maldonian, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 17:18:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17390462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/death_frisbee/pseuds/death_frisbee
Summary: Once upon a time, in far-off Maldonia, there was a young prince who refused to go to sleep. So the only thing to do is to read him a bedtime story.~Special 10 year anniversary(ish) rewrite of my ffnet one-shot!





	Di Fraggi Pruto, or The Frog Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Di Fraggi Pruto, or the Frog Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/448529) by Emotistic Optimistic. 



> I've actually been wanting to rewrite my PatF fics and move them over here for a while, and finding out that 2019 is the 10 year anniversary is the perfect reason to! I first published this on fanfiction.net (where it's still up in all it's 2009 glory) and I'm very glad to share it here!  
> ~  
> Also, a note on the Maldonian (Maldequesh??): as far as I'm aware, there's no set Maldonian language outside of the five words Naveen says, so I use [this system](http://slusheeduck.tumblr.com/post/181789212858/the-maldonian-language) that I started making ten years ago. Obvs this is just my own headcanon, and so I am in no way trying to offend if your Maldonian is different.

                A long time ago, in far-off Maldonia…

                “But I do not _want_ to go to bed!”

                A young maid-servant was trying to wrangle a very upset young prince. She puffed as she finally stopped chasing him, instead putting on a very strained smile as he hid behind the wardrobe.

                “Your Highness, you’ve already been allowed a whole extra _hour_ to stay awake,” she said, keeping her voice forcefully cheerful. “Surely you’re tired now?”

                “No!” In retaliation, the prince darted out from behind the wardrobe and bolted straight for the door.

                “ _Naveen!_ ” The name came out as a snap as the maidservant lunged. She managed to grab his arm just before he reached the doorknob, prompting a wail loud enough to shake the windows. The maidservant’s eyes widened, and she tried frantically to shush the prince. Over the commotion, though, she didn’t hear the door open, much less realize that she was suddenly being watched.

                “Tabitha, may I ask what is happening?”

                Tabitha, the maidservant, froze in place, eyes wide. She stared at Naveen for a moment, then let go of his arm before whirling around to drop into a deep curtsy, not even daring to raise her head and meet the queen’s gaze.

                “Y-your Majesty! I-I am _so_ sorry, I didn’t mean to lay a hand on the prince. His Highness was just…I-I mean, I just wanted to…well, I wasn’t thinking and…” She finally peeked her head up as the queen gently shushed her before looking down with an amused smile as her son latched himself onto her leg. She patted his head, then looked back at Tabitha, this time motioning for her to rise as she delicately raised an eyebrow.

                “You are not in trouble,” she said gently, “but I do require an explanation as to what happened.”

                Tabitha let out a shaking breath as she stood up straight. “I-I am afraid that His Highness refuses to go to bed.”

                “Esè demuitro pretôt!” Naveen protested, looking up at his mother entreatingly.

                “English around Miss Tabitha, Navim, remember?”

                “It is _too early!_ ”

                The queen shook her head with a little smile, then crouched down to meet Naveen eye-to-eye.

                “Naveen. How have I told you to behave with Miss Tabitha?” she asked, voice quiet but firm.

                “Ei m’is dette…” At his mother’s look, he let out a groan before replying flatly, “You said I am to treat her as I would treat you.”

                “Exactly. Now do as she says.”

                “But I am not tired,” he whined, adding a foot stamp to show how serious he was. The queen shook her head with a sigh, walking over to the bookcase.

                “Well, then, I suppose a story is the only solution.” Ignoring her son’s whine at her solution, she searched through the titles on the shelf. “Ah, here we are. _Di Fraggi Pruto._ This was my favorite as a child.” She pulled the book from the shelf, flipping through the pages before shutting it. “Tabitha?”

                “Yes, Your Majesty?” Tabitha asked timidly, only for her eyebrows to rise as the queen handed her the book.

                “Read this to him.” She turned back toward the bookcase, where the prince was lingering with a pout. “And Naveen?”

                “Se, Madri?”

                She crooked a finger toward herself, and Naveen reluctantly walked up to her. She crouched down and cupped his face. “ _Behave._ ”

                Naveen almost started to argue, but sighed instead. “ _Se_ , Madri.”

                “ _Parfaito_.” She lightly kissed his forehead before standing up. “Buono nuitte, Navim.”

                “Buono nuitte, Madri.” Naveen’s pout didn’t waver, but he obediently crawled into bed, crossing his arms once the queen walked out of the room. Tabitha let out a long, relieved sigh, then pulled a chair over to the side of the prince’s bed. She looked at him, then opened the book.

                “‘Once upon a time’,” she started, “‘in a faraway kingdom, there lived a princess who loved to play with a golden ball…’”

                She continued reading, but Naveen quickly stopped listening, still too caught up in his pouting. He gave the biggest huff he could to show just how annoyed he was, but his eyebrows rose as he realized that the gap from his recently-lost front tooth made a sort of whistling noise. He blew out another breath, grinning as he heard the whistle again, and promptly began trying to whistle out a tune he made up on the spot.

                “Your Highness!” Tabitha scolded, making him stop. She frowned at him. “Either you listen to the story, or…or I’ll tell Thalia not to give you a single scone tomorrow!”

                Naveen gasped. True, the threat was probably empty, but Thalia made the _best_ scones. It wasn’t worth the risk. He quietly slumped against the pillows, pout back in place as he listened. Tabitha cleared her throat and continued.

                “‘One day, while she was playing near the pond, her ball bounced into the water and sank. She began to cry, for she could not swim. Amidst her tears, she noticed a frog sitting beside her.

                ‘“Oh, please, Master Frog, please dive down and get my ball,” she begged the frog. “If you fetch my ball, I’ll do anything you like!”

                ‘The frog stared at her for a moment, then nodded and dove down into the water…’”

                Naveen looked up, pout replaced by a cautiously interested look. “You mean…the frog understood her?” When Tabitha nodded, he perked up. “What happens next? Keep reading!”

                Tabitha’s eyebrows rose, and a small smile curled on her lips as she continued, “‘After a few moments, the frog came back with the golden ball. The princess was very happy and immediately took her ball. But she forgot her promise to the frog and began to walk back to her castle, until a voice asked, “Didn’t you say you’ll do anything in return?”

                ‘The princess turned around, but the frog was the only one there. She looked down at him. “Was that you who spoke, Master Frog?” she asked.

                ‘The frog nodded and replied, “Yes, it was I.”’”

                “ _Achedanza_ ,” Naveen breathed, then let out an agitated noise as Tabitha closed the book.

                “Well, Highness, I think that’s all we’ll get to tonight.”

                “No! No fair! I want to know what the frog wants the princess to do!”

                Tabitha looked down at Naveen, eyebrows raised. “It’s already _very_ late, Highness…but if you _promise_ to be good tomorrow…”

                “I will!”

                “…and if you ask _nicely_ …”

                “Porfavo! Please, Miss Tabitha!” He crawled over to her, looking up with pleading eyes. She looked at him for a moment, then let out an exaggerated sigh.

                “All right, Your Highness. But then you go _straight_ to bed.”

                Naveen nodded, getting even closer as she opened the book again, craning his neck to look at the pictures.

                “Now, where were we?” she asked.

                “You were at the part where the frog said that he was the one who spoke.” He pointed at the picture of the surprised princess with the frog. “Right here.”

                “Ah, yes, that’s right.” She looked back down at the book. “ ‘The princess wasn’t thrilled at doing whatever a frog wanted, but she knew she had to keep her word. “All right, Master Frog, what is it that you want?” she asked.

                ‘The frog sighed sadly. “You see, I am not actually a frog, but a prince who was turned into a frog by a wicked witch’s spell…”’”

                “Why was he turned into a frog?” Naveen asked in a whisper.

                “Probably because he was naughty and didn’t go to bed when he was told,” Tabitha said, eyeing him. Naveen’s eyes widened, and he quickly dove back under the covers as Tabitha continued.

                “‘The frog continued, “The only way the curse can be broken is if I am kissed by a princess.”’”

                “ _Blech!_ ” Naveen cried, sticking out his tongue. “Kissing!”

                Tabitha chuckled before continuing, “‘So the princess picked up the frog and she leaned down…’”

                “Non…”

                “‘And puckered her lips…’”

                “ _Non!_ ”

                “‘And gave the frog a kiss!’” Naveen made a gagging noise, and Tabitha laughed as she finished, “‘And the frog turned into a handsome prince. They fell deeply in love and got married, and then they all lived happily ever after. The end.’” She shut the book and set it on the side table. “All right, Highness, now it’s time for you to _really_ go to sleep.”

                This time, Naveen didn’t argue, willingly letting himself be tucked in. Even so, he frowned. “Miss Tabitha, why is there _always_ kissing? It’s so… _dezgusante!_ ”

                “Now, now, Highness, one day you might be changing your tune. After all, you’ll be a young man and get married…”

                “Ech! No! I am not getting married! And I am never, ever, _ever_ kissing a girl!”

                Tabitha chuckled. “Of course, Highness. Whatever you say.”

                Naveen gave a resolute nod, then peeked up at Tabitha. “But…could you read it to me again tomorrow?”

                Tabitha looked down at him, then gave him a small smile. “Of course, Highness.  But _only_ if you don’t raise a fuss when it’s time for bed.” Her smile widened as he nodded eagerly, then she gave his head a gentle pat. “Shall I leave a lamp burning for you, Highness?”

                Naveen scoffed. “Miss Tabitha, I am almost _seven._ I can sleep in the dark.”

                Tabitha nodded, giving him a curtsy before snuffing out the lamp. “Good night, Your Highness.”

                Naveen nestled down against the pillows with a yawn. “Good night, Miss Tabitha,” he said as he shut his eyes.

                However, once he heard the door click shut, he opened one eye to make sure she was really out of the room. Once the coast was clear, he crawled out of bed. He walked over to the window, opening up the curtains and letting the moonlight—amplified by the marble towers nearby—light up his room.

                He crawled back into bed, pulling the book into his lap and eagerly opening it up. He still couldn’t quite read the words—this was an _English_ version--but he looked at the pictures eagerly. His brow furrowed in concentration as he reached the kissing part, and he flipped back and forth between the pictures of the frog prince before and after the kiss. He wrinkled his nose, then set the book back on the table before settling back under the covers.

                “If I ever get turned into a frog,” he said to no one in particular, “I’ll find a way to get turned back without kissing _anyone_.” He paused for a moment, considering. “Unless I _really, really_ have to.”  

               

                 

               


End file.
